


Mutationem Fortunae

by fairychangeling, fallenappleinc



Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Ancient Rome, Alternate Universe - Gladiators, Gladiator Thor (Marvel), M/M, Past Relationship(s), Role Reversal, Slavery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-16
Updated: 2019-10-16
Packaged: 2020-12-17 18:33:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21059036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fairychangeling/pseuds/fairychangeling, https://archiveofourown.org/users/fallenappleinc/pseuds/fallenappleinc
Summary: Once, Loki was a slave in the Odinson household, but now he is a powerful freeman.He uses his power and his riches to buy the one thing he desires  - Thor Odinson.





	Mutationem Fortunae

**Author's Note:**

> This was written in conjunction with my lovely husband - fallenappleinc.
> 
> Written for the square on my thorki bingo card for "Role Reversal" which I decide to take as a whole underpinning idea. 
> 
> I am also sorry for the Latin butchery in the title.

Loki covered his face as he was led through the gladiators quarters. 

Partly it was to mask the scent; a disgusting mix of blood, sweat and bodies that assaulted his senses, but it was also to hide his identity.

It was bad enough that the gladiator master knew who Loki was. He did not want it to be common knowledge that he had been here. After all, Loki was not coming for any quick tumble with a champion. He was here to make a purchase.

From the moment the gladiator had ripped his helmet off in the arena, revealing his face to the crowd, Loki had known he would not return to his villa alone tonight.

He would know Thor Odinson anywhere.

Standing in an arena, flecked with the blood of the man he had killed, naked from the waist up and roaring like the barbarian he was, he was every inch the same as Loki remembered him.

Still a brute; still stupid, and wilful, and reckless.

Still glorious.

He'd yelled for them to bring more men for him to fight and he'd bested three at once, beating them into submission with his hammer.

Loki had to have him.

The price had been steep. Thor was a champion. The gladiator master did not want to part with him, but Loki was persuasive. He had offered a hefty sum of gold, more than he had ever paid for a slave. He had offered an invitation to one of his parties, a chance to sit with senators, and finally he had offered himself.

He had not been an option at his parties for a very long time, not since he became such an established figure in society and brought boys to train as pleasure slaves and dancers, but there were always exceptions. Loki wanted this enough to offer his ass to the pawing and no doubt unimpressive love making of the gladiator master. He could endure one bad fuck to ensure he owned Thor. 

He had endured it before for much less impressive things.

They reached the cell that housed the Odinson and the gladiator master fumbled to unlock the door, cursing under his breath when it did not immediately yield to him. 

It did not bode well for Loki. 

"Leave us," Loki commanded when at last the door swing wide. 

The gladiator master nodded.

"Shout if he tries to hurt you," he said, turning away, leaving Loki alone with his purchase. 

Loki was glad his face was still hidden, that the gladiator master had not seen his smile. 

If the man Loki had seen fighting in the arena today wanted to hurt him, then Loki would likely be dead before anyone could reach the cell.

He stepped into the cell; a dank, dark little room lit only by a lamp that already seemed to be burning low. There was hardly anything in the way of furniture, just a pitiful bed that could hardly be big enough to contain the mountain of a man sat upon it.

Loki dropped the cloth covering his face, his heart beat loud as a drum in his ears.

"Do you remember me?" he asked. 

The man on the bed turned his head, looking Loki over slowly. 

His eyes dragged down the length of Loki’s body, then up again, but there was no flicker of recognition on that stupid, handsome face. 

"Are you Senator Octavian's boy? You'll have to take off those robes for me to be sure."

Loki scowled.

He knew he had changed, that he had grown into a great beauty and was no longer some slip of a boy, but he would have hoped to be memorable. Certainly, he would have hoped not to be mistaken for Senator Octavian's boy. 

It was not as if Thor had any real reason to remember the slave boy in his own household, little Loki, the son of no one, an orphan child. 

Loki remembered him though. 

He remembered him with an anger that burned so intensely, Loki had been engulfed by it the moment he'd seen Thor in the arena. 

He remembered every moment that Thor had slighted him, every time he had shoved Loki or broken things and blamed it on Loki. He remembered every beating, every punishment handed down to him because of Thor’s words or actions. 

He remembered each time Thor had been suddenly, unexpectedly, kind to him such as when he found Loki crying in the kitchens and comforted him. He remembered Thor saving food from his own plate to share with Loki, cutting slices of a fresh summer fruit and feeding them to Loki by hand, the juice dripping down his fingers and over Loki’s lips. 

He remembered each time Thor had touched him, growing more and more inappropriate as they aged and Thor's hands lingered on him.

Thor had been his _ first _. 

Everything Thor had been, everything he had done, was etched into Loki's soul.

"I am your new master," Loki said, but without Thor acknowledging who he was, the victory of those words felt hollow. 

Thor laughed. 

"He has sold me to you? What do you want a barbarian for, pretty Roman? Do you not worry that I would kill you in your bed? You are very brave. And very rich, if you have persuaded that old dog to part with me and my hammer."

Thor was insufferable, just as Loki remembered him.

Even now, he still acted as if he was the chief's son, although Odin was long dead and what had been their village no longer existed, swallowed up into the empire. Thor had no right to be so smug and certain of himself, but it seemed that arrogance was his nature. 

Enslavement had done nothing to teach him humility.

"I am not Roman," Loki said, switching effortlessly into his mother-tongue, his and Thor's shared language. "And you will have no need for your hammer where you are going."

"I have no fear that you would kill me, Thor," he said, returning to latin. He did not want anyone overhearing him speaking the barbarian language of his youth when Loki had done so much to distance himself from his past. "You will be serving drinks at my parties and answering to my every command. You will have no chance to kill me." 

Thor peered at him again, the startled look on his face quickly replaced by realisation, his eyes widening. 

"Loki?"

"Oh, you do remember me," Loki purred satisfied that some memory of him had remained, despite everything else that had changed. 

Thor moved quickly. He stood and was across the room in three purposeful strides. 

"I am not a house slave," he said, stopping only an inch or so from Loki, only an inch or so from being chest-to-chest. "I will not play your games." 

It should be intimidating to have Thor so close to him. Thor was taller than him, stronger than him. He was glorious, rippling with muscles and still flecked with the blood of the poor souls sent out to fight him. Loki should be scared, but he wasn’t. This wasn’t the first time Thor has stood so close to him, had tried to use his size to frighten Loki into submission. It hadn’t work then and it certainly wouldn’t work now that Thor was _ his _.

Loki rather liked being the focus of Thor's attention, feeling all that anger and raw power directed at him. 

"You are a house slave now," he corrected Thor, a wicked smile splitting his face. "You are whatever I tell you to be. Don't you understand, Thor? I own you," 

"You think I fight here because I am ordered to, little Loki?" Thor asked angrily. "You think I fight to save my own skin? Because I fear your Romans?" The big man shook his head. "I fight because I am a warrior. I will fight and I will win because it is what our people do. I will not let the Romans decide my fate. You have paid money for my body, Loki. But I am not your slave."

With that he moved back to the bed, sitting down on it heavily, and picked up his hammer, wiping the blood from it with a rag. 

"The Romans have already decided your fate, Thor. You fight in the ring because they will it. You live because they willed it," Loki said, his mouth twisting back into a frown. 

It was unbecoming for someone like Thor to think so highly of himself. He was a fool and it seemed he fooled himself more than anyone else. He had no real freedoms, no matter what he told himself. 

"Believe me, Thor, I did not buy you for your mind," he said dryly. "I only have want of your body."

Thor snorted.

"You will not be very pleased with your purchase," he rumbled, more sullen than proud now.

Loki came to stand in front of the man who was once again slumped on his bed and reached out a delicate hand to stroke across Thor's face, feeling the rough stubble beneath his fingers. He looked at Thor pityingly, as if he was a wounded rabbit, some small prey finally outsmarted and caught, defenseless against the attack it knew was coming, although there was nothing small or defenceless about Thor. 

"Are you frightened I will treat you how you treated me?" Loki asked softly.

Then he leant closer, his soft hand becoming clawed as he dug his fingers into Thor's hair and pulled, forcing the man to look up at him.

"_ You should be _." 


End file.
